Let Them Eat Cake
by Emily92
Summary: Castle does damage control. "My infamous chocolate cake is practically a foodgasm, I'll have you know." Post "Always."


**A/N: **Prompt from nattylovesjordy: _Castle and Beckett. Laughing over a chocolate cake. Because they're happy_. Takes place after "Always," perhaps mid to late summer. Kate's back at the precinct, Ryan and Espo have reconciled, and all danger to Kate's life is currently irrelevant because this is a story about cake.

Also, standard disclaimer, I do not own _Castle_. Though I once told my boyfriend that we should aspire to be AWM and Terri Edda. Seeing as he's the one to introduced me to this lovely show in the first place, he completely understood.

**Let Them Eat Cake**

It was a bit of a slow day at the precinct. The only action thus far had been when Beckett and Esposito had brought a suspect into the box, whom they were currently interrogating. Castle sat at Beckett's computer, perusing the internet for reactions to _Frozen Heat_, his latest release. Ryan sat nearby at his desk, his attention suddenly caught by something

"Hey Castle," he beckoned to the writer.

"Still struggling with _NY Times_ crossword puzzle, Ryan?" he asked as he took a seat next to Ryan's desk.

The detective shook his head, "You should see this."

Castle began rambling excitedly, "I'm in the _New York Times_? Ryan, you've officially made my day. Not that I wasn't having a good day before, but this makes it even better. Like an awesome topping, you know?"

"Castle –"

"So it's of review for_ Frozen Heat_, right?"

"Not quite," Ryan replied. He pushed a tabloid in Castle's direction.

He looked confused, "This isn't the _New York Times_."

"You're not in the _New York Times_, Castle. You're on page six here, and you need to do damage control before Beckett kills you."

Castle looked disappointed, "Oh."

"I'm just looking out for your welfare, as your friend, man," Ryan stood up and went to join the other detectives, "Best of luck."

Alone now, Castle opened the magazine in order to find the article in question. He quickly spotted it, alongside a picture of himself and Beckett in the Hamptons a few weeks ago, his arms wrapped around her as she sported a two piece that he'd had dreams about for days afterward.

"Oh," he said to himself, "Kate's going to strangle me."

00000000

Having slipped out of the precinct earlier than usual, Castle was able to make a few phone calls from the safety of the loft. He'd been free from overhearing and questioning of any sort, as both Martha and Alexis were out and about until the next day. He had been able to stop further circulation of the photo and article, but there still remained the issue of their existence in the already printed magazines.

He sighed.

Several minutes later, he was interrupted from his thoughts when his phone rang. He glanced at the caller ID. It was Kate.

"Hey," he answered.

"Hey. Are you home?"

"Yeah."

"Good, cause I'm outside of your door. Come let me in."

"Hey," she said again as she kissed his cheek when he let her inside.

He smiled as he led her to the couch, "Hi. You're in a good mood."

"Yeah, well, we got our guy."

"And you were able to do all that without me," he feigned offense, "I'm not sure if I should be put out or not."

"Why'd you run out so suddenly, anyway?"

"I had to take care of…things."

"Castle," she said suspiciously.

"Ok, promise you won't kill me?"

"Not helping your cause, Rick."

"There might have been an…article. And a certain…picture."

She groaned, "How bad is it?"

"I mostly took care of it, but…"

"Let me see."

He handed her the magazine.

"Have _Nikki Heat_ novelist Richard Castle and NYPD detective and inspiration Kate Beckett gotten together at last? We think yes," Kate read aloud. She rolled her eyes, "God, who writes this stuff, squeeing teenage girls with access to the internet?"

"This journalist is particularly cringe worthy," Castle agreed.

"If you can even call her that," Beckett said before continuing, "The good looking duo was spotted sharing what seemed to be a cozy, intimate getaway at the writer's private beach house. We've got pictures to prove it. You don't have to be Sherlock Holmes to see that there's definitely something going on between those two."

Kate rolled her eyes again as she put the magazine down before finishing the article, "I'm done with this."

"You seem to be taking it well," Castle said hesitantly.

"Well, it isn't ideal, but I can't say I'm overly surprised by it. Comes with the territory, I guess," she said, gently poking Castle's chest several times.

"Uhh, Kate?"

"Hmm?"

"I really hate to bring this up, but there's more."

"What?" she spat as she snatched up the magazine again.

"Photo. Next page," he said, bracing himself.

"Oh god," she said upon seeing the photograph, "Castle, I'm hardly wearing anything."

"That swimsuit is perfectly acceptable beach wear."

She glared at him.

"It would be worse," he told her, trying to help, "You could be naked."

"Ow!" he squeaked as she grabbed his ear, "Apples! Apples!"

00000000

"Hi," he said half-hesitantly and half-cheerfully as she came out of his bedroom and joined him in the kitchen an hour or so later, "You still mad?"

She gave him a light smile, "I suppose I'll keep you around."

He grinned, "Good. I made dinner."

"Did you?"

"Yup. Spaghetti with my top secret ingredients, garlic bread –"

"What are these secret ingredients?"

"Well, Kate, if I were to tell you, they obviously wouldn't be top secret anymore. But it will be the best pasta you've ever eaten. You can ask mother or Alexis if you don't believe me."

She laughed, "Fine."

"And, my dear detective, you interrupted me before I could tell you the best part."

"You mean your mind blowing spaghetti can be topped?"

"Only by my infamous homemade chocolate cake. It's practically a foodgasm, I'll have you know."

"Did you really just say foodgasm?"

"Yes. Yes I did. Because it is an accurate description of the amazing masterpiece I'm sharing with you later tonight."

She raised an eyebrow, "Oh my."

"Jeez, Beckett, get your mind out of the gutter!" he mock scolded, shaking his head.

She smirked, "Oh, don't delude yourself, Castle. You walked right into that one."

00000000

"I've gotta say," Beckett smiled later that evening, "That spaghetti was pretty good."

"Like I told you, the best."

She smirked, "I dunno if I'd go that far."

"Ahh, the lady has such high standards," he said as he began clearing the dinner dishes.

She stood up to help.

"Hey, no moving," he objected cheerfully, "I get to spoil you tonight."

She rolled her eyes but complied.

Several minutes later he returned with two smaller plates with a piece of cake on each, as well as a bottle of wine.

She stared at him for a few minutes.

"You eying my excellent balancing skills here, Beckett?"

"I'm not quite sure how you're doing it," she admitted.

"Well," he said as he sat down, "I'm not exactly klutzy."

"So this leads me to believe you were either a waiter or some kind of juggling or balancing act in the circus at one point," she paused, "I'm gonna go with the latter."

He grinned.

"Perhaps," he replied mysteriously.

She took a bite of the desert in front of her.

"Hmm," she said a few minutes later, "I've gotta say again, Castle, you have me thinking you were a chef in a past life. This is delicious."

"Foodgasmic."

"You know, you may be right."

"Ooooh."

"Don't get too carried away."

"You know, Kate," he said, suddenly a bit more serious, "I am sorry about that magazine."

"I know you are, Castle, and it's ok. You didn't ask for it."

"One of the few things I dislike about the success of my books is this kind of stuff. I'm glad you're alright. But, you know, I'm going to make even more of an effort not to feed these reporters and their crazy appetites at all."

She smiled, "I appreciate it."

He nodded, "This life is ours. Let them eat cake, for all I care."

"Right," she said. Suddenly she smiled again, "But not your foodgasmic cake."

"Oh no. That, detective, is solely between you and me. Always."

"Always," she said as she took his hand in hers.


End file.
